Apostle's Creed
by Mii-Chan 24
Summary: What if Itex wasn't the only one out trying to get Max and the Flock? And, what if, they were a bit more... religiously inclined than Itex?
1. Chapter 1

**Apostle's Creed**

**By Amaya 24**

**A/N: Hey guys! Back with another story. Before you start, I just want to say one thing -- if this story, as it progresses, insults anyone, I'm sorry in advance. That is not my intention. This is just something to deal with my Writer's Block; I **_**will**_** update my other stories as soon as I can.**

**Disclaimer: If you recognize something, then I obviously don't own it, now, do I?**

**- - - - - - - - **

_"Our Father, who art in heaven, blessed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, in Earth as it is in heaven..."_

The words echoed eerily in the darkened chapel, giving the whole place a cryptic atmosphere. The man praying paused for a second to view the dozens of screens lining one of the walls of the chapel. The mix between the gothic architecture of the sanctuary and the glowing high-def monitors was astounding.

On every one of those screens, something different glowed. To a casual passerby, the images might not make sense. But the man scrutinizing the screens had hand-picked every image. He knew what to make of the _New York Times _article about the commotion in a small restaurant more than a year ago. He was aware of the real reason behind the explosion in a respected Itex facility. He recognized the damage created by the spectacle in a recent Cowboys game in the Texas stadium.

And he knew exactly who was to blame for the United State's government sudden interest in the environment.

His eyes narrowed as they traveled towards the screen in the center of the chaotic array. There, barely visible, were six figures with wings...

- - - - - - -

"Max? My fries are soggy," Gazzy complained, lifting one of the floppy taters and waving it in my face. I grimaced, backing away slightly.

"That's... great, Gaz. If you don't want it, don't eat it," I murmured, picking up one of my own listless fries and staring at it for a few seconds. Shrugging, I stuffed it in my mouth and resumed eating my second fried chicken thingy.

"Max, it was really great of you to bring us here," Angel beamed, sipping on her coke. The out-of-the-way McHeart Attack had been a blessing after six hours of non-stop flying. And since there was hardly anyone in the place, we could pig out to our heart's content and not get stared at.

Nudge nodded in agreement, her mouth bursting with soggy fries. Gazzy chuckled, spraying Iggy and Fang with burger bits. Fang wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"Gaz, dude, that's sick," Iggy groused, wiping his cheek disgustedly. Then he burped. I rolled my eyes.

"Way to set an example, Igs." Iggy laughed, reaching over unfailingly to ruffle the Gasman's perpetually ruffled hair.

Angel giggled and picked apart some chicken nuggets, sticking them into her backpack to feed Total. Nudge was regaling Fang on her newest obsession: Greek mythology. I wasn't sure whether to blame _Twilight_ for this, or the _History Channel_ marathon she had a few days ago.

I finished my chicken thing and leaned back, letting the food in my stomach settle slightly. It was the little things like this -- the Flock eating enough food, joking around with each other-- that really kept me going through the dark times.

But, of course, nothing good can last, right?

The first thing that got to me was that prickly feeling that you get sometimes when people are staring at you. As sneakily as I could, I glanced around the near-vacant Mickey D's, hoping my prickly feeling was just paranoia. No such luck. My eyes narrowed slightly, and I looked down at my drink.

"Fang? 10 o' clock. Is he watching us?" I whispered, not looking at Fang, playing instead with the straw wrapper. I felt him shift ever so slightly next to me before cursing under his breath.

"Yeah. U and A?"

"Do you need to ask?" The rest of the Flock stared at our little exchange, their faces solemn. Gazzy shoved the rest of his fries in his mouth, stretching nonchalantly. Angel squirmed in her seat, making sure Celeste and Total were still where they were supposed to be. Akila was back with my mom, seeing as how carrying a big, honking Malamute would have weighed us down too much.

Iggy sighed, taking another sip of coke. "Yay... Don't the bad guys ever get vacations?"

"The wicked never rest, Iggy. You should know that." I smiled grimly and settled my backpack more securely on my shoulders.

The man who had been watching us -- an old, grandfatherly-type of guy wearing black trousers and a black button-up shirt -- slowly wandered over, his white hair shining under the harsh fluorescent lights. I tensed, glancing at Angel.

_What can you get from him, sweetie?_

Angel shot me a frantic look. _I can't get into his mind!_

"Excuse me, kids..." I looked up as innocently as I could. Up close, the man looked a little too fit, too muscled for his age. Which got me thinking: since when did Itex begin employing seniors?

_Max, don't assume everything is Itex's fault. Whenever a big company begins to monopolize an industry, other companies tend to sprout up._

I froze slightly, shooting Fang a frantic look. He looked up at the man and gave him a charming smile. I swear, when he wants to, this guy can _act_.

"Can we help you?" He asked, tensing faintly. The old dude smiled reassuringly. I ignored what was going on and focused on my Voice.

_What are you_ talking_ about?! You mean there are other companies like Itex out there?! And you didn't tell me?!_

_Calm down, Max. I thought it would have been obvious. But, to be honest, it's not a company. It's an organization._

_Company, organization -- it all adds up to the same thing. But there _are_ more out there?_

_I'm afraid so._

"... Would you?" I looked up, confused, having missed most of the conversation. Fang frowned, looking appropriately disappointed. Nudge and Angel mirrored his expression, and Gazzy shook his head.

"Sorry," Fang answered, shaking his head slowly. "Haven't seen it."

The old man nodded, giving us all a small smile. "Well, thank you anyways, children."

"What the heck was that about?" I asked once the old dude had walked away. Fang smirked.

"He wanted to know if we'd seen a red 1956 Chevy truck here." Iggy snorted, taking a humongous bite out of his burger.

I rolled my eyes. "Why didn't he just ask if we wanted some free candy? Or if we would help him find his lost puppy?"

Iggy and Fang chuckled, still staring at the guy to make sure he kept his distance. Total sniffled inside Angel's backpack, complaining that he was suffocating.

"Sorry Total, but we can't let you out yet." I whispered, hoping the scattered patrons wouldn't mind a girl talking to a backpack.

"Let's get out of here, Max. That guy gave me the creeps." Nudge muttered, shooting the old guy a mistrustful look. Apparently, having not found his answer with us, he'd gone off to ask the cashier.

Iggy snorted again. "He's probably a pedophile lookin' for his next mark."

"Pedophile is a possibility," I mused, piling my trash onto one of our trays. "I agree with Nudge. Let's go."

We all stood up and dumped our trash, shooting the old man hostile looks. He smiled at me warmly as we walked out, and shiver ran down my spine. Hurriedly, I ushered the Flock out of the door and into the blinding sunlight.

Once outside, we walked for a bit, trying to find a decent, deserted spot to take off from. Iggy and Gazzy were discussing who the old man could have been -- apparently, they were undecided between space alien and pedophile. Personally, I thought he was probably both.

"Okay guys," I sighed once we reached an empty alley that didn't stink too much. "U and A."

"Leaving so soon, dear?" I froze for half a second before whirling around. And, lo and behold, who was standing there but our dear old pedophile friend?

He smiled at me again, giving off a comforting, trusting type of aura that was totally setting me on edge.

"Can we help you?" I ground out, motioning for the Flock to hurry up and haul butt. The old dude's smile widened.

"That's not a very good idea, dear," He said, walking forward slowly. I tensed, eyes narrowing.

"What do you want?" I snarled, shifting my weight. Old dude didn't seem to see, or care. He continued to stalk forward, and we shuffled back slightly to keep some distance between us.

"Isn't it obvious?" I didn't see what hit us, but I did hear Angel and Nudge cry out. I turned to help them, but felt a sharp prick in my arm, and then a searing pain as a liquid rushed through my veins. I clenched my fists even as my vision began blurring.

"I want you, child. All of you." My last thought before I blacked out? _Frick. He _is_ a pedophile._

**- - - - - - -**

**I know it's short, but believe me-- it'll get longer. Like I said, this is just an experiment I wanted to try. So please, reviews would be very appreciated. Thanks much, guys!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Apostle's Creed**

**By Amaya 24**

**Chapter 2**

**A/N: Again, I don't mean to offend anyone with this fic. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine, don't own. You know the drill.**

- - - - - -

_"... And deliver us from evil. Amen... Hail Mary, full of grace..."_

My fuzzy brain struggled to compute as I regained consciousness. "Ouch..."

The praying stopped suddenly. "Oh. You're awake. Thank the lord... I was getting worried..."

"Like hell you were," I spat out before my brain could react. The voice clucked sadly.

"Such manners.... Then again, you _have_ been in the world of the wicked for quite some time. It is only understandable that you have picked up habits like those."

"Habits? Maybe, just _maybe_, this isn't a habit. After all, getting kidnapped doesn't really make everything peachy-keen, does it?" I snarled, everything that happened before I blacked out rushing back to my head.

My head snapped up and glanced around frantically, searching for my flock. I barely registered the dank, dungeon-like room we were in. Barely. What I did notice, however, was the six lumpy shapes scattered on the ground unceremoniously.

I blinked, shuffling over towards the figure closest to me. Upon closer inspection, I found Nudge, fast asleep, drooling on the hard, stone floors, looking a little worse for wear. With a sigh, I shook her, trying to wake her up.

All around me, the other figures began reviving.

"Ugh... Did we get hit by a semi, or what?" Iggy groaned, rubbing the back of his neck.

"More like a 747," Gazzy muttered, his butt in the air. I stifled a giggle and crawled over, righting him.

"Or, like, a whale," Nudge added, yawning and rubbing her eyes. My arm throbbed suddenly, and I slapped my hand over it irritably.

"What the...?" I pulled at the little dart in my arm and tossed it away, annoyed.

"Max, my head hurts..." Angel whimpered. Fang groaned slightly, and I saw three little darts sticking out of his shoulder.

"I am sorry, children," I looked up and grimaced at the old pedophile man. Lovely. "But it was needed. We couldn't have you fighting back and injuring yourselves, could we?"

"Look, you sick freak," I growled, struggling to stand up. "I don't care who you are, but better let us go before we kick your --"

"My name, children," the pedophile said, standing up a little straighter. "Is Father Michael."

"Father Michael?" Iggy echoed, his brow furrowed. "What are you, a priest or something?"

"Pedophile," I coughed under my breath, low enough for us mutants to hear. Iggy and Gazzy chuckled, and I thought I saw Fang smirk, but I forced myself to look up at our dear old pedophile.

The... er... Father Michael stared at us, awe in his eyes mixing with something else that set me on edge. I shivered. "Alright, _Father_. What do you want with us?"

"To save the world, dear."

Oh. That again.

"Yeah, yeah. Like I haven't heard that one before." I stood up, and I am proud to say I didn't wobble. Much.

Shaking my head violently, I blinked and picked up Angel. "Well, as fun as this was, we have to get going, Father."

Iggy hauled himself up next to me, and Fang, Gazzy, and Nudge soon followed. I absently wondered where Total was, but now was not the time to worry about the Scottie. Hey, it may be harsh, but if I know Total -- and, let's face it, I do -- he'll find his way back to us somehow.

Father Michael sighed, running a hand through his silvery hair. "I'm truly sorry, children, but I can't allow you to leave."

"Oh, yeah? Who's gonna stop us, Grandpa?" Iggy snarled, tossing his darts off into a corner.

Old Father Michael smiled in a creepy way and wandered over to one of the dungeon walls, humming softly. We watched him warily, itching to spread our wings and get out of this hellhole.

Still humming, Father Mike touched one of the monitors that lined the wall. As we watched, the monitor hissed and split into two, revealing a large... chamber of sorts. That wasn't what had made our jaws scrape the ground, though. What had us completely and utterly shocked was the fact that in that large chamber, rows upon rows of _soldiers_ stood, poised and ready for action.

"Holy..." Fang looked at me worriedly as Nudge quickly explained what was going on to Iggy.

"Aw, hell..."

"To answer your question, child," the good father continued in a conversational tone. "_They_ will be the ones to stop you if you decide to leave."

- - - - - - -

After getting manhandled into another room, the Flock and I sat around a wooden table, discussing our options. Namely, finding a way to get the hell out.

"Max... I miss Total," Angel sniffled, clinging to my neck. The poor baby had absolutely refused to let me go, trying to find Total's thoughts and failing miserably.

"I know, sweetie," I murmured, stroking her hair. "You can't hear anything from anyone here?"

She shook her head despondently. "It's horrible. It's like they're blocking me."

"So now what, Max?" Fang asked, glancing around our cell to try and find a way out. Needless to say, there wasn't one.

"That... is a good question."

We sat in silence for a few minutes, digesting the situation. The silence, though, let us hear what was going on outside.

"... go and bring him... get him... there..." Little bits and pieces of Father Mike's orders reached us, making Fang look at me again and Iggy frown.

"So... Who d'ya think Mister Pedo's gonna take first?"

"Oh, ew, Iggy."

"Sick, man."

"Hey, I'm just saying!" He responded defensively as Nudge giggled, then stilled, twitching as our door opened with a loud creak.

The guards stationed at the door glared at us, then shoved a small figure into the room before slamming the heavy, metal door shut.

The little figure they'd brusquely thrown at us cowered near the door, his pale, heart-shaped face frozen in terror.

Angel looked up at me, her blue eyes wide, before pulling away from my neck and wandering over to the little boy.

"Hello," she whispered, kneeling down to be at eye-level with the child. He looked about four or five, with dark, curly hair and long lashes. He looked like a little angel, albeit one that was scared stiff.

The boy whimpered, cringing away, and squealed in surprise as his back hit the door. With a soft wail, he slumped down, fighting back tears.

"Poor baby," Nudge whispered, eyes wide.

I sighed, standing up and wandering over to the little boy, patting Angel's back. "Easy, Ange. I've got this."

"Okay, Max," Angel smiled, straightening up and taking a step back. I beamed at her and kneeled down before the boy, who covered his eyes with his hands.

"Hey, kiddo," I murmured in the best, calming voice I had. The boy sniffled, peeking at me through the slats of his fingers.

He responded something I couldn't really hear before curling up again. I looked up at my Flock, then back at the little boy.

"Sweetie... You have a name?" I asked, reaching over hesitantly to pat the little boy's dark curls.

He stiffened, looking up at me with big, brown eyes. "Y-yes..."

"Well, that's good." I heard Iggy snort behind me, and frowned. "My name's Max."

The little boy gulped nervously, then looked at me. "H--hi, Max..."

"Hi. What's your name?" I looked up at the door for a second, wondering if good old Mike was watching this. It was obvious he wanted the little boy with us, but why was beyond me.

"O-oz..." I smiled at the little boy, stroking his hair in an effort to calm him down.

"Oz, huh? Well, Oz, why don't you come with us so we can talk? It's better than being on the floor." I offered him my hand, glancing up at the door every now and then.

He glanced at my outstretched hand, then up at the door before staring at the flock. He frowned a bit, then nodded, taking my hand and hauling himself up.

"Guys, this is Oz. Oz, this is my Flock." I glanced at my flock, ignoring the dark looks Fang was shooting me.

_Fang thinks this could be a trap, Max._ I sighed, smiling wearily at Angel.

"I know, sweetie. I think I know what I'm doing, though." Fang looked away, and I could swear I heard a snort coming from his direction.

Gazzy looked up from his seat and gazed at little Oz curiously. "Hey."

_Attaboy, Gaz!_ I cheered in my head, smiling encouragingly. Oz stared at him, blinking, before cringing away and hiding behind my legs. Considering how small he was, it was pretty easy for him to do so.

"Hey, hey," I said gently, crouching down and pulling him back into the light. "Relax, kiddo. We won't hurt you."

Oz looked up at me, still clearly terrified, then at each member of the Flock. "... Really?"

"Really," I promised, shooting Fang a dark look. He looked at me evenly, then rolled his eyes.

"That's right," he added, smiling slightly at Oz. Nudge beamed at him, petting his head.

"We're your friends, Ozzy!"

Oz blinked again before looking up at Nudge in a mystified way. "... I've never had friends before..."

"Well, now you do, John," Father Mike said jovially. I shot up and pushed Oz behind me, glaring at the priest. We had been so caught up with Oz and the whole mess that we hadn't heard the door open.

"My name's Oz!" The little boy growled, glaring in a similar fashion from behind me. "Not John!"

"Come now, John," the father said in a no-nonsense voice. "We've been through this before." He took a step forward, raising an eyebrow as Fang and Iggy joined me in protecting the little ones.

"Easy now, _padre_," I snarled, tensing. "We're not letting you do anythi--"

"My dear child, you must calm down!" He interrupted, spreading his arms wide. "This is what I _wanted_! Now my seven apostles are united at last! Now the real work can begin."

Huh? Did I miss the memo? Since when were we _apostles_?!

- - - - - -

**Longer chapter, inspired by a rather blunt review. Thanks so much for getting me off my lazy butt and... Well, yeah. And I know I said I'd stop writing for Max Ride, but this just hit me. I had to.**

**Read, review. You know the drill.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Apostle's Creed**

**By Amaya 24**

**Chapter 3**

**Disclaimer: If anything is familiar, then it is obviously not mine.**

**A/N: I don't mean to offend anyone with this fic. If I do, it is completely accidental, but take this as a warning. People say that the two things you should never talk about are politics and religion, and I think they are right, but for the basis of this fic, religion is a very big part.**

**If none of this bothers you, then by all means, continue.**

- - - - -

"You, children, are the world's last hope. Without you, our very existence could be at stake."

I felt my brain sputter for a second, before spitting out a very eloquent, "Huh?"

Angel glanced up at me, smiling slightly, before pulling Oz towards Nudge and Gazzer. The little boy looked absolutely terrified, but our mutual, obvious dislike of Father Michael seemed to reassure him somewhat.

Fang's shoulder brushed mine casually, reminding me to stay focused.

"And why," I drawled, smirking in what I hoped was a nonchalant way, "does a priest have to save the world? Shouldn't you leave that to the authorities, maybe?"

Father Michael's eyes flashed darkly. "The authorities are nothing more than ruthless thugs who will receive their just rewards when the time comes."

"And by 'just rewards', you mean.... what, exactly?" I struggled to keep my face blank, trying to gauge just how 'loony' this guy was.

The father leaned back, and I noticed, with ADD perspicacity, that his eyes were a dark, flinty gray. Said flinty-gray eyes were clouded over, like he wasn't really seeing the dank, albeit highly illuminated room and the seven grungy children currently inhabiting it.

On a side note, if you're noticing the big 'vocab' -- let me just say Nudge hasn't been the only one hitting the books. But I digress.

"The good Lord is just," he murmured softly, stroking his chin absently. "He is the only one who can truly condemn or commend those in his flock..."

I glanced at Fang anxiously, and he shook his head slightly, as if to say he wasn't sure what to make of this whackjob just yet.

Iggy, who had failed to catch our looks due to the fact he was kind of blind, sighed loudly, bringing the minister back to the present. "So, what's this got to do with us?"

Despite the grammar that would make an English teacher shudder, he had a point.

"Yes, well... The good Lord is just, as I said, but at times, he sends his faithful servants to do his bidding." Right....

"And you're one of those 'faithful servants', right?" I deadpanned, feeling my brain start to pound, even worse than when the Voice butted in so thoughtfully into my day-to-day activities.

Speaking of which... The Voice hadn't whined in an entire day. It was a miracle. Pun intended.

_Focus, Max. You can't afford to underestimate your enemy._

Oh. Speak of the devil.

Ignoring the infuriating Voice, I tuned back to listen to Father Michael's pompous response. "That's right. He has chosen me to pave the way into a new era, and to do so, he has sent me seven apostles."

"What are we, tools?" I snapped without thinking, taking in Father Mike's awkward look. Right on the money, of course.

"Not necessarily, children..." Which was only helping to incriminate himself even more.

"Po-tay-to, po-tah-to. It's the same thing. You need us, so you kidnapped us." I spat, feeling my temper spike. The only reason we hadn't busted out our awesome kung-fu skillz, as Gazzy loved to call them, was the fact that there were probably a dozen or so guys in Kevlar toting Uzis or whatever waiting for a chance to turn us into colanders.

The priest sighed. "Now, now, my dear... 'Kidnapped' is such an ugly word..."

"Oh! And another thing!" I snapped, drawing myself up to my full height. "What's this 'my dear' crap? I _have_ a name, thanks. And you obviously know who we are."

Iggy and Nudge nodded, while Ozzy clung mutely to Angel. "That's right."

"Well, you see, children," Father Mike stood up and began pacing, like _he_ was the one being annoyed to the point of no return. "Your... names, if you want to call them that, were not set as your Christian names..."

"Seeing as how we're not Christian, it kind of makes sense," Iggy put in before I had a chance to. Father Mike sighed.

"How little you know, child," he said condescendingly, making Iggy bristle. "As my apostles, you will do the work of God! You are guaranteed a better life in Paradise, with the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ."

I felt my eye twitch. Not fun, I tell you. "Uh-huh. Right. Say we were to be... I dunno. Non-Christian. What then?"

"You will see the true path soon enough, my dear." Father Michael stood, and his words made a chill run down my spine.

Ozzy whimpered, making Ol' Mike look down. "John. Go and take them to your quarters."

He then turned to us. "Everything you need is there for you -- if there is anything missing, don't hesitate to ask."

What he said obviously left no room for discussion, and rather than put up a fight and get ourselves potentially killed, I stood up with as much dignity as I could muster given the situation and grabbed Angel's hand. As an afterthought, I grabbed Ozzy's too.

"Lead the way, kiddo," I told him, motioning for the rest of the flock to follow. Nudge shot Father Mike a wary look and skittered after us, Gazzy following closely. Fang and Igs brought up the rear, tensing in case our pedophilic priest tried anything fishy.

Thankfully, he stayed behind, watching us carefully as we stalked out of the room. And as I had thought, there was a miniature army of soldiers waiting in case we tried bolting.

Ozzy frowned at them, struggling to keep up with my long strides. "Max?"

"What's up, Oz?" I looked down, still walking. Ozzy gazed up at me, panting.

"Could ya slow down, pwease?" I blinked, glancing around at the hostile-looking GI's. Letting go of Angel's hand for a second, I knelt down and scooped the little boy into my arms, then resumed walking.

Ozzy squeaked, surprised at the sudden change in height, and grabbed me into a chokehold, his curly hair getting into my mouth.

Angel laughed as I spit out the springy tresses, clinging to my elbow as we resumed our trek... somewhere.

After a few minutes of silent walking, we broke away from the angry horde of gun-wielding soldiers. Relieved, I let out a long breath, and found the motion echoed by my flock.

"Max, when are we leaving?" Gazzy complained, looking around the grim hall for ways out. I sighed, wondering that exact same thing.

"Erm... Not sure. Soon, though." I lied, glancing at Angel to make sure she didn't say anything. She gave me a somber look but nodded, staring at Oz.

"Where are we going?" I stopped in the middle of the hall, gazing down the long stretch of corridor we were on. Ozzy looked around, then up, as if that would help him remember.

"Uh... Go down here, then turn... that way--" he motioned to his left, almost smacking me in the face, "-- then go straigh' again until ya see a door, an' then ya go through the door an' ya go--" I raised a hand to stop him. It seemed that the more he talked, the more syllables he seemed to misplace.

"How about you tell us as we go, Oz?" I suggested, turning to smile at Fang. He raised an eyebrow, but I caught the slight shadow of a smile.

Iggy laughed, reaching over unerringly to pat Ozzy's head. "Relax, kid. You're with us now. Max is a little bossy, but you learn to tune it out."

I puffed out my cheeks in annoyance, making Oz chuckle a bit. Iggy continued, glad to have fresh blood to irritate. "So, my name's Iggy, but you can call me 'awesome' or anything to that effect."

"'Idiot' works too," I assured the little boy, shooting Iggy a dirty look. Nudge snickered, beaming at Oz.

"I'm Nudge," she told him, bouncing next to me as we walked along. Oz stared at her, eyes wide, before flushing nervously and burying his head into my neck.

I glanced at Nudge, smiling. "He's shy, honey. Don't worry."

Nudge nodded in understanding, then moved back as Gaz took center stage. "Name's Gasman, Oz. _The_ Gasman." He said, pulling his little voice trick thing to mimic Sean Connery as James Bond. Leave it to the Gasman.

Oz stared, openly gaping at the little blond child who hummed happily beside me. Angel laughed, reading his mind, then began walking in front of me, turning so that she was walking backwards, gazing at us.

"I'm Angel. And don't worry -- we'll get out of here," she assured him, skipping around to pull Fang into view.

Ozzy stared at Fang, then at me, then at Fang again, letting go of my neck for a second as he reached out for Fang.

Surprised, Fang stepped forward to pluck the small body from my grip, his eyes widening ever so slightly to show just how stunned he was with the sudden arrangement.

"Uh... Hey," he murmured, unsure of what to do with his new charge. Ozzy gazed at him earnestly, clinging to his neck in an endearing way. I swear, I almost cooed at the Kodak moment. Nudge _did _coo, squealing at the cuteness.

Fang gazed at me nervously, ready to freak out as Oz nuzzled his neck. I wasn't sure what was going on, but I figured it wouldn't hurt anyone in the long run. Besides, it was rare for Fang to have a cute-sy moment with someone that was... well, with anyone, really.

Beaming at the two, I grabbed Angel's hand again and stumbled down the hall, leading the way into an equally dreary intersection, trying to figure out where to go next.

Oz looked around, then pointed left. "Tha' way."

Fang shrugged, walking where Oz said to go, and the rest of us followed.

I looked around, still trying to find a way out among the insanely monotonous stone walls, when Ozzy hiccupped, squirming in Fang's arms.

Sensing his uneasiness, I swooped down and pulled the fidgeting baby from his grip, setting him down. "You okay, Oz?"

He nodded, hiccupping again, before keeling over and blowing chunks all over the Pedo-Priest's lovely stone hall.

Kneeling down beside him, I glanced at Fang and the others, setting my hand on his shoulder and feeling his small frame quiver. "Shh... It's okay, Ozzy. It'll be fine."

He nodded, hiccupping again, tears running down his cheeks as he heaved once more, the splattering sound that resulted making Nudge go a bit green.

Glancing at my flock worriedly, I sighed. _Decision time, Max._

"Nudge, take Gaz and Angel and keep an eye out in case anyone comes checking on us. Fang, go on ahead, see if you can't find that door Ozzy mentioned earlier. Igs, come here." I ordered, rubbing our new little buddy's back soothingly, hoping to calm him down.

Ozzy whimpered, sitting up long enough to gasp for air, his cheeks flushed, though from the blood rushing to his head or something else, I wasn't sure.

Nudge stared nervously, then trotted down the hall, Gazzy and Angel in tow. Fang gripped my shoulder reassuringly and went the other way, while Iggy put his hand on my head to guide him towards a section of floor that wasn't currently coated with Ozzy's barf.

Once he was sure he wasn't going to accidentally stick his hand in the stuff, Iggy let go of my head and felt Ozzy's forehead, frowning seriously. "He's burning up, Max."

_Thank you, Captain Obvious_, I grumbled in my head, reaching over to brush away a few slick strands of hair sticking to Ozzy's forehead, wincing at the temperature coming from the little boy's body.

"Max?" Iggy and I both looked up as Fang trotted back to us, panting a bit. "I think I found Oz's room. Is he okay?"

I frowned up at him, then slipped my hands under Ozzy's shivering form, lifting him up slowly so as not to make him gag again. "Not sure."

He whimpered softly, eyes closed, and shifted so that his head rested against my shoulder. Sure, he reeked of puke, but the poor baby needed comforting, and seeing as how no one had run in to save the day, no one else gave a crap.

"Igs, get the others. Fang, lead the way." I side-stepped the lovely pistachio-colored sick on the floor and followed Fang as he walked quickly down the hall.

After more dreary gray stone wall, we reached a large wooden door, engraved with weird pictures and God knows what else. Ignoring the sure-to-be-trippy mural, I followed Fang through the door to another hall, this one more modern looking. There were fewer rocks, at least.

Ozzy moaned weakly, and fearing another deluge of the contents of stomach, I hurried after Fang as he opened a door. The only door, I later noticed, in the entire hall.

As soon as we stepped in, Ozzy leapt from my arms and rushed towards another door, almost tripping over a bed.

I sighed wearily, listening to Oz retching in what I assumed was a bathroom, taking in the seven beds that adorned the semi-spacious room. The beds weren't huge -- in fact, as far as beds went, they were pretty simple-- but they seemed clean, and were better than most places we'd settled down in.

"Guess this is going to be our new room," Fang muttered, glancing around. I mimicked him, noticing the distinctive lack of windows.

Along with the beds, there was a small fridge set against a corner, and another door set at the end of the room. The one Ozzy had catapulted into was off to one side, so I walked forward to see what was behind door number two.

"Careful," my ever present guardian angel cautioned, making me turn to stare at him irritably.

"I know, Fang. I'm not stupid."

Fang grinned, making my stomach clench. "If you say so, Max."

I ignored his teasing tone and opened the door, feeling a bit nervous, expecting another mini-blockade. Instead, I stepped into a white room with a few couches strewn here and there, all surrounding a massive white piano.

"Max, Max!" I turned to see Nudge barrel into the room, Angel trailing her like a shadow and Gazzy not far behind. "How is he?"

I shrugged, stepping away from the piano room and walking slowly into the bathroom. "Ozzy?"

The poor boy looked up from the toilet, his face pale and ashy. Sighing, I looked around and caught sight of a towel -- white, unsurprisingly -- and wet it slightly at the small sink beside the toilet.

Kneeling down, I patted the moist towel against his forehead, reaching over to flush the puke away. "How're you doing, sweetie?"

Ozzy spit into the still-swirling water and sighed, taking the towel from my hands to clean his mouth. "'M okay, Max. Thank you."

"No prob, kid. Like Iggy said: you're with us now," I murmured, stroking back his damp bangs. He looked up and smiled, and for some reason, I felt like the little boy wasn't as little as he seemed. Call it a gut feeling, if you will.

"How's he doing?" Fang peeked in, wrinkling his nose slightly at the sour smell still hanging in the air. Ozzy smiled at him, standing up shakily.

"All better now." As if to prove a point, he stumbled out of the room, wobbling as he made his way to one of the beds. It was a tad messier than the others -- the sheets on the other beds were crisp and clean; Ozzy's seemed bland in comparison.

With a loud groan, he flopped down on the bed, gazing at us with burning curiosity.

The silence stretched on awkwardly, making me glance at Fang. He shrugged, giving me an 'it's-your-problem-you-deal-with-it' look.

Huffing angrily, I walked over to the mini-fridge, glancing around. Finding a water bottle, I plucked it out and twisted the top off, walking back to Ozzy and sitting at the edge of his bed. "Here you go, Oz."

"Thank you," he murmured, sitting up slowly and taking the water bottle from my grasp. I smiled a bit, nodding and reaching over to stroke his hair, frowning slightly as my fingers brushed against his hot forehead.

Iggy sat down on one of the beds, stretching luxuriously before turning to face us. "So... Oz. Not to be nosy or nothing... but what the hell was that?"

Ozzy flushed bright red, gazing down at his water bottle. "Um... I...."

"Ozzy," I whispered, setting my hand on his shoulder reassuringly. "We're your friends! You can trust us!"

Ozzy stared down at his lap, twisting the cap on and off his water bottle. "... I know..."

"Well, then? Why don't ya tell us?" Iggy pressed, scooting over to let Fang sit down. Angel crawled onto his lap, and Gazzy sat on the floor. Nudge blinked, sitting beside me as we waited expectantly for the little boy's answer.

But no answer came. The flock glanced at each other worriedly, until Gazzy's stomach rumbled loud enough to make Nudge slip off the bed in surprise.

"Oz?" I finally nudged, glancing at the curly-haired child. "What happened? Why are you even here?"

Oz stared down at his lap, his curly locks hanging over his eyes. "... I can't say..."

"Why not?" He gulped, glancing up at me, then at the rest of the flock.

"He's watchin' us..." I stared at Fang, raising an eyebrow. Three guesses as to who 'he' was.

As stealthily as I could, I glanced around, instantly spotting an innocent-looking black ball on the ceiling. Oh, goody. Cameras.

"Oz?" I moved slightly so that my back faced the camera. "Is there anywhere we _can_ talk?"

He shrugged absently, but I caught his eyes darting toward the room with the piano. Pretending to not notice, I stood up. "Well. Some other time, then. You guys hungry?"

Gazzy shot up, running towards the mini-fridge like a cheetah, ripping it open and dumping most of its contents on the closest bed. "_I call dibs on this bed!_"

"Wow," Iggy snickered, sauntering towards the vibrating Gasman. "It's like his gut has a mind of its own."

Gazzy stuck his tongue out at Igs, then proceeded to divvy up the food. Angel soon swooped down on him, berating him for saving the best food for himself.

As Fang walked over to control the situation, I stroked Ozzy's hair, sighing softly. "Why are you here, honey?"

He looked up, and I swear I saw something flash before his eyes. A dark look, like maybe he didn't like thinking about it. I'd seen the look countless times on my flock, but never on a normal kid.

I knew Ozzy had nothing physically wrong with him -- when I'd picked him up to carry him into the room, I'd felt his back pressing against me. No wings. No extra appendages. If what Father Michael said was true, he had captured us because we were _apostles_. Angels, maybe? Our wings would delude him enough to believe it. But Ozzy seemed normal.

So what was he hiding? Why was he brought here?

- - - - - - -

**New chapter. Thank you for reviewing -- I really had no idea what I was going to do with this. It's thanks to you guys that I keep writing.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Apostle's Creed**

**By Amaya 24**

**Chapter 4**

**Disclaimer: Same as always. Don't own.**

**If you want to hear the song Oz plays, I'll try to have the link up on my profile. If not, I'll put the name so you can look them up on Youtube.**

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After eating a relatively okay meal consisting mainly of TV dinners, we lounged around on our new beds, us older kids thinking of ways to get the hell out, the younger ones talking excitedly with Ozzy.

Gazzy yawned loudly, interrupting the intriguing story he was telling about the day he found a potato chip shaped like Abraham Lincoln, then looked around. "Max? What time is it?"

I shrugged, looking around. No clocks anywhere, and I didn't have my watch on me at the moment. "No idea."

"Iggy, don't you have your iPod with you?" Fang asked, poking the poor guy as he walked to the mini-fridge. Iggy grumbled, pulling the white ear buds out of his ears.

"What? I couldn't hear you; I was listening to my iPod."

Annoyed, I yanked the little white music player and glanced at the time. "It's almost six, Gaz."

Ozzy perked up, gazing at me earnestly. "Really?"

I nodded, jumping when a loud gong sounded through the room. Angel yelped, looking around as the sound repeated, a loud, low, insistent noise that annoyed me to no end.

It went on for a few more minutes, six times in total, before stopping. The silence that followed was deafening.

"Well. That was interesting." Fang glanced at me, raising an eyebrow, and looked up as Ozzy bounded from his bed towards the piano room. None of us had gone in since I had first checked it out, and it felt like being in there would be like a bad idea.

Now, we watched the little boy yank the door open and rush in, before poking his head back out of the doorway. "Aren'tcha guys comin'?"

Angel looked at me, then stood up, brushing nonexistent lint from her shirt before following Ozzy. Taking that as his cue, Gazzer followed.

Nudge shrugged at us, trailing on after them. Iggy, listening to the sound of their footsteps, groaned and sat up, tagging along, leaving me and Fang behind.

"Should we?" I shrugged at his question and looked around, my eyes darting back to the camera on the ceiling.

"Why not?" With a sigh, I sat up and wandered into the piano room, taking in the sight of the pure white room. Unlike the other room, this one seemed... sterile, somehow. Like a hospital room, sans the antiseptic smell.

"Max!" Looking up, I saw Nudge perched on a rather puffy-looking couch, grinning happily. Gazzy was sprawled on a long, cream-colored couch, and seemed pretty comfortable, to be honest.

Iggy had taken up residence in a white recliner-type thing, eyes closed, seemingly asleep. Angel was sitting beside Ozzy at the piano, watching as the younger boy lifted the cover off the keys.

"You can actually play, Oz?" Gazzy questioned, biting back a yawn. Ozzy shrugged, plunking at the keys experimentally.

"Sorta. I only know one song, though..." He frowned a bit, before ignoring the question and resuming his half-hearted playing.

I wandered over, staring at the keys. Unlike the other pianos I had seen, (mostly on TV), the keys on this one were inverted. The keys that were supposed to be white were black, and the ones that had to be black were white.

Ozzy looked up at me, smiling, before turning to face Fang, who had followed me into the room. "Could ya close th' door, please?"

I stared as Fang did so, sitting down on a long couch and watching my flock carefully. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, for a change. Gaz and Nudge were playing twenty questions with Oz, and Angel was running her hands across the piano keys happily. Iggy lounged on his seat, drooling slightly.

Once the door was shut, Oz turned to the piano again, sitting so that he could reach the floor and steady himself. Angel slid off the seat and sat between me and Fang, watching as the little boy cracked his knuckles. The others returned to their seats as well.

Slowly, the little boy began tapping at the keys, a soft, sleepy-sounding melody coming from the instrument. It was amazing, almost angelic.

As the song continued, Ozzy sucked in a deep breath, whispering softly along with the song. I couldn't understand what he was saying, but the tone, and the feeling he put into the words... It was amazing.

I shivered, blinking furiously as I tried to get my dulled brain to start working again. It felt like I had fallen asleep, almost. "Wow."

"You okay, Max?" Ozzy asked, turning away from the piano to gaze at me curiously.

I shook my head like a dog, blinking. "Y-yeah... What _was_ that?"

"That was beautiful," Nudge murmured dreamily, flopping spinelessly on her seat.

Gaz was snoring loudly, an arm thrown across his face. Iggy had a small lake collecting on his chest, and Angel had fallen asleep on my lap. Fang was still awake, but barely hanging in there.

Ozzy giggled, smiling brightly. "Ya liked it?"

I nodded numbly, still trying to get all pistons firing. "It was amazing, Oz. How did you learn to play?"

"I dunno." Fang grunted, sitting up to shake away the drowsy feeling as the curly-haired boy thought. "I jus' kinda... know. I heard th' song once, an'... I learned how to play."

"Just like that?" Fang questioned, looking a bit disgruntled. Ozzy nodded, brushing away his curly hair away from his eyes.

Fang turned to look at me, disbelief in his eyes. I didn't blame him: even with everything we had gone through, it seemed almost impossible for someone to just _know_ how to do something.

"Max?" I looked up at Ozzy, who was gazing at us with wide eyes. "Are you guys really angels?"

The sudden, rather stupid question made me laugh out loud, before realizing he was serious. "Is that what Mike told you?"

"Yup. 'E said that ya were 'ngels tha' God had sent him to save th' world." He tilted his head to the side, as if trying to see our invisible halos or whatever.

"So, are ya?" I chuckled, shaking my head. Fang grinned slightly, picking Angel from my lap and setting her between us again to keep her from rolling off the couch.

"Sorry to disappoint, but no." Ozzy nodded in understanding, then pulled his legs up onto the stool he was sitting on, resting Indian-style to stare at us better.

"So Father Michael lied?"

I nodded, stroking Angel's hair softly, watching Ozzy warily. He was young, sure, but if there was one thing I knew, appearances could be deceiving.

He looked at us again, then up at the ceiling, humming his song softly. "So if ya aren' angels, then why'd Father Michael kidnap ya?"

"That, my dear boy, is a very good question," I sighed, letting my head rest against the cushioned back of the couch. It made sense that the priest had lied, but why _did_ he want us? What did he have planned for us?

"Oz?" I looked up as Fang spoke, blinking in confusion. The little boy looked up from the piano, as startled as I was.

"Yeah?" Fang stared at me evenly, then leaned forward, pinning Ozzy with his stare.

"Why are you here?"

The boy froze, eyes widening, before looking around as if expecting someone watching him. Once he finished his search, he stared at Fang, beaming as if nothing was wrong. "I dunno."

"You said you'd be able to tell us here." Fang pressed, keeping his voice low and even, trying not to be intimidating and failing miserably.

"I know. I jus' dunno why." Fang sighed, annoyed, and sat back, giving me a look. _Your turn, Max._

I thought carefully about what to ask. "What did Father Michael tell you when he brought you here?"

Ozzy's smile slipped off suddenly, replaced by a haunted, grim line. "He says... 'e says 'm an apostle sent to him by God, an' that I gotta do th' Lord's work or else I'll go t' hell."

I winced. Cheerful guy, Father Michael was.

"And where were you before Father Michael got to you?" I glanced at Iggy, who had joined the conversation suddenly. Oz looked up in surprise, and leaned back, staring up at the white ceiling absently.

"I dun really 'member," he whispered, rubbing the back of his neck. "It was... really, really dark. An' cold."

"And that was really, really vague," I muttered at Fang, who grinned slightly before turning back to the boy.

"Are there any details that you can give us?" He pressed, hoping that the boy was merely messing with us.

Ozzy 'hmm'ed and glanced at us, thinking hard. "... Th're were these people wit' white coats everywhere... An' cages, o' course. We was all 'n cages..."

I froze, and felt Fang do the same beside me. Of course, Itex had to be involved.

"Do you remember what they called the place you were in?" I questioned, struggling to keep my voice level.

"It was somethin'... funny. I dun really 'member. Sorry." I had to be honest; the boy didn't look apologetic at all. Slightly frustrated, I stared at the kid, studying him closely.

For the first time, I noticed what he was wearing -- the pair of black dress shoes on his feet seemed a bit of a pain, and the black slacks he had on were probably not as comfortable as they could have been. He also had on a white, button-up shirt, though he had undone the buttons closest to his neck so that he could breathe. Obviously, he hadn't gotten to choose his clothes, though I thought Father Mike had taken things too far with the Sunday school attire.

"Oz?" Iggy sat up and stretched, turning to face the little one. "Who named you?"

Ozzy blinked. "Th' boy with the silver eyes," he said simply, grabbing onto a piece of his hair and tugging at it absently. "He said... he said we all needed names, 'cause we weren' just numbers... We were more th'n experiments, an' that we were people too even though they didn' think so."

I gaped openly at him before snapping my mouth shut, déjà vu hitting me like a ton of bricks.

"Max?" Fang snapped his fingers in front of my eyes, snapping me out of the memories of Flyboys and girls with leopard spots down their backs.

"I'm okay, I'm okay." I reassured him, noting Ozzy's curious look. He stared, eyes wide and innocent-looking, seeming to be the most harmless thing in the world.

"Oz, do you know what this boy's name was?" I prayed that it wasn't who I was thinking about, but braced myself in case it was.

I saw him shift slightly, his eyes shadowed by his curly hair, before shaking his head. "Nope. 'E never said."

Exhaling loudly, I slumped on my seat, ignoring the furious thumping in my chest. _Oh, God..._

Nudge yawned noisily, rubbing her eyes. "So... What do you do here, Oz? If you only know one song, I mean."

"Oh! Well... Every day, at six, Father Michael lets me come in 'ere. I play my song once, an' then I do... stuff. Like, sometimes I get homework or books or somethin' to do, but all my stuff's gone since they moved th' beds in 'ere."

The thought of his things being manhandled by unknown peoples made another soft frown appear on his face, before he disregarded the notion and slid off his seat to park himself next to Gaz, who was barely starting to wake up.

It was amazing how bipolar this kid was. I was getting whiplash from the mood swings.

"Say, Oz, did the guys in the white coats do anything to you?" The Flock (or the younger members, at least) turned to stare at Fang, who, I should have realized, wouldn't let the situation go. He was like a dog with a bone sometimes.

Oz stared, eyes blank as he thought of what to say. "Sometimes..."

"Elaborate, will you?" Fang snapped crossly, his patience wearing thin. Ozzy raised an eyebrow, eyes narrowing at the harsh tone.

"What's 'elaborate' mean?" He shot back, a sweet smile on his face. I shivered, noting that the smile failed to reach his eyes.

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Fang, stop it. Oz... Please. We're trying to help you."

With a loud sigh, as if we were the ones that were aggravating the hell out of him, Ozzy glanced up, blue eyes dull. "How're ya gonna help, Max? You're stuck in 'ere too."

"Be that as it may, Oz, we're getting out of here somehow." The boy's cynical view shook me more than I let show, but he had a point. Then again, I did too. I wasn't going to just roll over and let that quack priest take over.

"Ya really think so?" I looked up at Oz, who was scrutinizing me carefully. "Ya really think ya can get outta here?"

"Yeah. I do. And we'd get out of here faster if you told us what you know." Logically, it made sense. And if he didn't agree, we'd find a way to persuade him.

Ozzy huffed angrily, ticked off by my reasoning, and ran a hand through his hair. "M'kay! M'kay... Yeesh..."

Again, he glanced up, closing his eyes thoughtfully. "Sometimes they sent us into a room... It was really bright 'n there... That's one thing I 'member real good -- it was super bright... They made us run, an' then they sent these thingies after us... robots? I dunno... It's kinda hard to think..."

He scratched his head, frowning a bit. "Sorry."

_Maybe he's repressed the memories, Max._ I wrinkled my nose at the Voice's input, shrugging. It was a possibility, sure, but maybe, just maybe, the kid was playing us. Who knew?

"It's okay, Ozzy," Nudge told him gently, smiling. "We'll figure a way out. You'll see! Max always has a plan."

I nodded as I did, which I most certainly did not, and sat back. _So, Voice. What's new?_

_Do you know where you are, Max?_ I yawned, feeling my eyes water.

_Nope. I was kind of hoping you'd tell us that, Voice._

It sighed, exasperated. _Max, that man is dangerous. You cannot let your guard down around him; any chance you get, try to squeeze information out from him. If Itex finds out you have been kidnapped by a rival organization, things could end badly._

"Okay, okay," I grumbled, watching Oz trying to teach Angel and Nudge how to play his song on the piano. "I'll be careful. It'd be nice if we could get some help, though."

As per usual, the Voice said nothing, leaving an empty void in my head. Not a nice feeling, I tell you.

"Max?" Fang scooted closer towards me, his knee knocking against mine. "Sorry. What do you think?"

I shrugged. "Not sure. Ozzy's hard to read." _Not to mention he's been playing on his mood swings a bit too much._

"Yeah." We watched as the younger kids crowded around Oz, who seemed a bit overwhelmed by the attention but was taking it in stride.

Behind us, someone knocked softly on the door, making us freeze. Angel skittered towards me, jumping in my arms and staring with wide eyes.

Ozzy looked at me as well, sliding off his seat and walking slowly to the door. Gaz and Iggy stood up, and Fang followed suit, tension building in the room.

Nervously, Ozzy opened the door and stepped back quickly, twitching slightly.

"John, it's time to rest now," the kindly old man said, and I grimaced. Of course, Father Michael would come in to make sure we weren't planning some sort of mutiny against him.

Ozzy pouted, seeming ready to punch the geezer or something, then hunched his shoulders and shuffled out the door dejectedly.

We stared after him, not sure whether to follow or to stay behind, watching Father Mike in case he tried something underhand and sneaky.

"Well, children? You must be tired." The priest not-so-subtly motioned to the door and the room beyond, waiting for us to get in gear and get to bed.

Gazzy pouted, walking forward to grab my hand. "It's only seven, though..."

I shushed him gently and held Angel tighter, maneuvering around the white couch, pushing Gaz through the open door and slipping through right after, feeling Angel squirm away from the shady priest.

Once in the bright, white room, I honed in on Ozzy, curled up on his bed, looking pissed beyond belief, the scowl on his face absolutely adorable. Even when he was mad, the kid was cute.

Gaz chuckled, then let go of my hand and shuffled over to his claimed bed, flopping on top of the covers, placing his muddy sneakers over the pristine sheets. A disgusting act of defiance, but defiance nonetheless.

Iggy slouched in after us, Fang following him like his evil shadow. Nudge, who had been spacing out when Father Mike had so rudely interrupted, yelped and shot after us, barreling into Iggy before bouncing to her bed.

Once everyone had picked a bed and settled down somewhat, the man shut the piano-room door tightly and slowly clacked past the beds, turning at the second door to stare at us.

With a barely audible groan, Ozzy slipped off his bed and kneeled down at the side, hands clasped on the bed, head bowed.

"'Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name..." he murmured in a monotone, then stopped, glancing at us nervously.

Angel blinked and copied his movements, staring at me. _It's prayer time, Max. He won't leave until we do this._

Heaving a sigh, I slid off my bed and stared, kneeling on the floor like Ozzy was doing. It was then that I realized my knees were bruised, which was, overall, just icing on the cake.

Nudge and Gazzy exchanged a curious look, but copied us, waiting for the two remaining macho men to follow suit.

Iggy yawned, sprawled on the bed, before rolling off it, grumbling under his breath. Apparently, Angel had passed on the message.

I turned, sitting back to stare at Fang, who was point-black refusing to stare at anyone. Angel giggled, sitting up and running over to use Fang's stomach as a trampoline.

Fang hissed as the air left his lungs and surrounding air sacs, grabbing onto Angel so that she wouldn't roll off him.

"Come on, Fang!" She whispered at full volume, making me and Nudge giggle. Fang rolled his eyes and put Angel down, slowly kneeling down beside her.

Oz grinned slightly, and began praying again, stopping every so often to let us repeat what he was saying.

Finally, Ozzy did something funny with his hand and sat up, curling back under the covers. Taking that as our cue, the rest of us climbed back into bed.

"Thank you, children," Mike called, flicking off the lights and plunging us into darkness. "Rest well. May God be with you."

And the door shut behind him with a finality that chilled me to the bone.

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**The song Oz plays on the piano is called 'Tsunaida Te ni Kiss wo', but if you search 'Musician' on Youtube, you'll probably find it. That's what I was listening to while I was writing the piano bit, so there you go.**

**Questions, concerns -- go ahead and PM me. If I don't answer to a review, though, it's because my internet's still down. Sorry.**

**Read and review.**


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